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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24205624">Practice Challenges - Selection OC 6</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnicornGirl/pseuds/TheUnicornGirl'>TheUnicornGirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The life of a Three - Selection OC 6 - Brooke Lynn Sanders [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Selection Series - Kiera Cass</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:33:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,800</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24205624</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnicornGirl/pseuds/TheUnicornGirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Brooke Lynn Sanders journey as a contestant of Arin Schreave's selection begins.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The life of a Three - Selection OC 6 - Brooke Lynn Sanders [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747057</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prompt 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you to @thorpe for being an incredible beta! Love you</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the Dream Girls and Pageant's flat the weekly post-lecture drinking session has just got started. An array of different whiskies, canned cocktails and wine litters the second hand dining table where Brooke’s Bachelor thesis has laid not five minutes earlier. A’keria pours herself and Brooke the second glass of scotch for the day - the first one was for calming their nerves while finishing up the last touches on their theses. Meanwhile, Nina helps Vanessa transform her favorite homemade dish, puerto rican pasteles de carne, into a vegan version - which seems to take longer than expected. Not really a surprise when considering the fact Vanessa’s abuelita had never used any proper measurements and just went with her gut. And if Brooke isn’t mistaken, she can hear Vanessa argue from the kitchen that the recipe just flows through her Latin blood, and therefore she needs no “motherfucking measurements”. The blonde can only chuckle and slightly shake her head before taking another sip from her drink. </p><p>“Kiki, have you seen Silky?” Brooke asks out loud, surprised by how relatively quiet the shared household is. The only noises to be heard coming from the kitchen, and, for once, they don’t even include wild chatter or singing.</p><p>“If I remember correctly, she wandered off to buy some pastries, but who knows where Big Silk actually is,” A’keria answers without even taking her eyes off her phone for a second. Her manicured fingers swiping left and right across the screen. </p><p>“Are you on tinder again?” A teasing smile present on her lips.</p><p>“You fucking know I am.” The snip of her fingers highlights her cocky attitude, knowing damn well most mean swoon over her. Fall for her feisty but wise dementor within seconds.</p><p>“Have you matched with- ” The blond starts, before getting cut off mid sentence.</p><p>“Guys, girls, and nonbinary pals - I have humongous news!” Silky bursts through the entrance, adding an extra door slam for the shock value. Three pairs of blown wide pupils stare at her - not necessarily in shock, rather in anticipation.</p><p>“Spit it out!” Vanessa shouts as Nina popps her head through the doorframe as well. Intrigued by the ongoing comotion - not even bothering about getting the sauce stains off her cheek.</p><p>“The application letters for Prince Arin Schreave’s Selection just arrived.”</p><p>For a second the world stands still. Everyone, including Brooke, holds their breath. The calm before the storm.</p><p>This sentence alone is enough for hell to break loose in the tiny college apartment. Vanessa and A’keria flock around Silky like pigeons waiting for seed to be tossed at them. Vanjie, the shortest of the trio, bounces like a ball around the other two, making up a song with random Spanish words and screeching at the top of her lungs, while A’keria and Silky argue about who would be a better queen. Nina simply settles by Brooke’s side with a small cuckle, brushing her blonde fringe out of the way. Both only roll their eyes, having forgotten about the Selection since the day it has been announced. There've been way more important things on Brooke’s mind - like how many additional hours she needs to spend in the lab to gain extra credit.</p><p>"How can someone be so excited about being objectified by the entire nation," Brooke mumbles to herself - very unimpressed by the whole ordeal, not really understanding the hype around the upcoming Selection. How come that her 20 something year old friends turned into 12 year old teenage girls dreaming about life as a royal within seconds? </p><p>Hormones - I guess.</p><p>"Because this ass deserves to be objectified," Silky whoops, putting on an entire twerking show in the living room with Vanjie and A’keria hyping her up and joining the jelly shaking. Usually Brooke finds her friends intoxicating goofiness amusing without any alcohol in her system. Apparently, today is not the day. So she falls back into her seat, taking a heavy swing of her liquor and watches her friends chatter about the possibility of an average looking rich boy falling for one of them. </p><p>An hour passes and the giggly girls still haven't calmed down, and since nearly everyone abandoned the food immediately - it’s between Brooke and Silky to finish the puerto rican delicacy. Tipsy Brooke doesn't mind that now even Nina joined the hype, seemingly having forgotten about her current boyfriend. The blonde keeps herself busy with alternating between online shopping for new pointe shoes and new plants she can add to her steadily growing collection. Not an ideal Friday afternoon, but at least this time around A’keria didn’t forget to buy vegan pork. </p><p>A glance to her clock tells her that her favorite trashy TV show starts soon. A silent prayer escapes her lips in hopes that this will spark a different conversation among the girls.</p><p>However, her prayer stayed unheard.</p><p>Another glass of liquor in, she starts to enjoy the laughter and excitement laying heavy in the air - drowning out the TV. The beaming smiles of her friends slowly melt her cold exterior, making her forget why she is so bitter in the first place. A fuzzy feeling spreads in her chest at the mention of sparkly ball gowns and which jewels would best suit Silky’s and A’keria’s darker complexion. Glue stains might now cover the table surface, but all Brooke can focus on is the twinkle in her friends' eyes. Especially Vanessa’s golden orbs seem to gleam like amber in the late afternoon sun. Brooke can perfectly imagine the same expression on a much younger version of the Latina - sparkling child’s eyes opening neatly wrapped presents on her 6th birthday.</p><p>A cashmere-like grin settles on Vanessa’s lips once she catches the blonde stare, adding a wink for good measure.</p><p>Ohh no</p><p>“Brookey, why don’t you wanna join us and fill out your applic-, aple-, whatever - your letter?” Gold orbs now work their best puppy look, while Vanessa attempts to milk every cute asset she posses, which leaves her with plenty of choice. Her head now rests on her palms propped up on the table, indulging the other woman in a silent staring contest.</p><p>“Vanjie, you know how I think about the Selection,” Brooke adds once she's glanced away. Her words merely louder than a whisper, accentuating her naturally husky voice.</p><p>“Prince Arin has two sisters,” Nina promptly slides into the conversation. The sly smirk on her face resembles a cat waiting for its prey. </p><p>“Yes, I know, Nina, but what does this have to do with me?” Blonde bushy brows are raised high, while her nervous fingertips play with the golden cross around her neck.</p><p>“Quit this shit, B! We all know you like girls,” A’keria shouts from across the room, head buried in the wine cabinet. </p><p>Wait what? Brooke feels her mouth fall agape before shooting back, “I’m not gay!”</p><p>“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Nina retorts, which the blond pretends to overhear and checks the time on her phone again. An hour left before she has to catch her train.<br/>
“Well if you don’t wanna fill it out, me and Vanjie will have some fun.”</p><p>An eye roll from the blonde’s side is enough to make it clear that she couldn’t care less. Brooke Lynn takes a last swing to empty her glass, before grabbing the rest of the dishes littering the tiny table and bringing them to the kitchen. Instead of resorting to her usual weed abuse, she decides to clean the kitchen instead - hoping to take her mind off certain things. But with each scrubbed plate and cooking utensil the itch in her chest doesn’t seem to go away. What she would give for just a tiny puff- No, Brooke, you are going home tonight. Her shoulders slouch as she scolds herself, nearly missing the commotion going in in the living room. Nearly.</p><p>“I swear Brooke will end you if you note down ‘hiding in the closet’ for her special skills.”</p><p>“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”</p><p>“Too bad I am not deaf, Silky babe.” </p><p>The stern look on the blonde’s face is enough for Vanessa to hide behind A’keria, yet unable to suppress the cackle bubbling up in her throat. However, Silky hasn’t got the memo, and attempts to pick a fight with Brooke. Nina frees the application from A’keria’s grasp and silently finishes filling in the last details needed to complete the form. A tap on Brooke’s shoulder is enough to break the two brawlers apart. The tick paper with carefully placed gold details is placed in Brooke Lynn’s hands who doesn’t look too amused. She slams the neatly filled form onto the table, adding wrinkles to the thoughtfully crafted application. </p><p>“Do me favour and just let me be,” Brooke continues with a deep sight, before leaving the common area to retreat to her room, tired of her friends for once. A glance at the clock hanging above her king sized bed tells her she needs to hurry up if she still wants to catch the last train going home, so she grabs her tiny suitcase from her bedroom, slips on a pair of vans, and grabs and olive toned coat. </p><p>“Brooke?”</p><p>“What?” The annoyance in the blonde’s voice only increases as the blood in her veins starts to simmer. Her fingertips already rest against the cold metal of the doorknob. </p><p>“Can you come over for a sec?”</p><p>Reluctantly, she turns around and struts towards the direction of the voice. Vanessa is seated alone on the living room floor, everyone else already getting ready for their evening plans - whatever they may be.</p><p>“You aren’t mad are you? We were just playing.” The brunette clearly looking worried - probably pondering whether or not she had overstepped a line.</p><p>“I know, Nessa, I know. It’s just a touchy subject. You know my parents-”</p><p>“I know, B,” Vanessa whispers, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. She signs grabby hands at Brooke, silently asking for a hug. </p><p>With a loving eye roll, the other woman let’s go off the suitcase handle and envelops the shorter girl in a tight embrace. She sighs deeply as she inhales Nessa’s strawberry scented shampoo, taking a moment to just breathe.</p><p>But she can’t stay.</p><p>“I gotta go now, V. I don’t wanna miss my train again,” Brooke mumbles into the brunette’s wavy hair. But she holds on a tad bit longer, closing her eyes for just a second.</p><p>Vanessa buries her head a bit deeper into Brooke’s embrace cautiously slipping a sheet of paper into the olive coat pocket before letting go.</p><p>The blonde gives the smaller woman one last smile, before grabbing her suitcase and walking through the door. </p><p>“Have fun in Dakota!” are the last words Brooke hears before leaving her flat behind. </p><p>Once her feet collide with the gum littered pavement, she picks up her pace and barely makes it to the platform on time. With a little huff, she slides into an empty cabin, throwing her suitcase on the opposite seat and catches her breath. The train isn’t near its full speed yet when Brooke already opens the window, grabbing the cigarette pack from her coat, unable to resist the urge in her chest, needing to fix her itch. So she lights her last cigarette inside the vehicle in a desperate need for a calm moment in this chaotic week. Praying she will somehow survive the weekend at her parents' place without her bong. </p><p>But honestly - how bad could it be?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A sloughed down figure rests against a light grey wall, inhaling deeply. A rushy rose dress is spilling all over the floor, nearly swallowing the girl whole. She's desperate for a quiet break - without any judging eyes or snickered remarks. Her eyelids may cover the storm raging in her iris, but the angry waves inside her soul do not seem to calm down. </p><p> </p><p>She relives each moment of her journey that led her to this moment. Each twisted revelation followed by the next misstep. No matter how hard she tries to silence her mind - her world doesn’t stop rotating around the past few days. </p><p> </p><p>The rage in her bones may have simmered down to a slight irritation, but that doesn’t mean she will forget. The disappointment in her father’s eyes the day she had raged like a hurricane finally letting loose, made her cave in at last. A semi apology halfway stuck in her throat was enough for her mum to drop the victim card. So all she had heard the next few days was what a lucky God’s daughter was.</p><p> </p><p>And so the roll began - and not even Vanessa’s little rants could lift her mood this time.  </p><p> </p><p>Now she is here. Far from home. Far from everyone she knows. Left to decide who she wants to be - who the world will see. One of thirty five.</p><p> </p><p>With another deep breath Brooke grabs the leatherbound journal laying by her side. She opens a random page and carefully props up the book on her knees - staring at the blank paper infront of her. The words currently spinning on the merry-go-around in her head are very much waiting to be released onto the blank space. Steady fingertips grab the pen hidden in the back pouch, twirling it between freshly manicured nails. Yet it only hovers above the page, the blonde suddenly at a loss for words. </p><p> </p><p>So she does what she knows best - pouring out all piled up impressions of the day. Finally giving into the whirlwind of emotions she usually locks away.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Blank space. Here we go. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Let’s keep it simple. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tea party</p><p> </p><p>Boiling water oozes out of the cracks in my skull</p><p>Rephrasing my mantra until it ends up dull</p><p>Sticking to the roof of my mouth </p><p> Underlining the ever present drouth</p><p> </p><p>Thirst is the security blanket I wrap around torn skin</p><p>While everyone else offers to fix me with a security pin</p><p>I stopped counting how often I’ve screamed “I don’t like coffee” at the top of my lungs</p><p>While still gulping down the bitter expectations - not just once</p><p> </p><p>Who would’ve thought tasteless buds would find themselves in an award winning coffee roaster</p><p>With an unfastened seat belt going down a rollercoaster</p><p>Dolled up like the new edition of Barbie</p><p>While I secretly crave a quiet tea party</p><p> </p><p>Brooke Lynn’s heart picks up its pace as the words pour out of the young woman’s soul. Only subconsciously registering what her heart reveals. The last lines spilling out of her guts like the ink droplets flying onto the recycled paper.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> Well shit - now I feel worse. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Unease settels deep down in the young woman’s stomach, slightly disgusted by her own facade. She should be grateful to be here - one of the lucky few. Grateful her family cared enough to see her as a “good match”. Grateful to be normal - yes, normal. Because Brooke Lynn Sanders is normal. </p><p> </p><p>“There are comfier places to sit in than here, you know.” </p><p> </p><p>Brooke flinches at the sudden voice, before snapping her head around. Her pupils widen at the sight of a gem covered crown propped up on the head looking around the corner. <em> Fuck. </em> Princess Safiya. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh really? Marble floor seems to be an upgrade compared to my usual existential crisis spot." Brooke attempts to keep her cool - locking away the storm threatening to take her last ounce of self perseverance - no need to lose her composure during her first encounter with a royal. <em> Just be cool. Sayifa is just as human as you are - </em> at least that's what she tells herself. </p><p> </p><p>The brunette raises both brows before coming around the corner fully. Her slender hands bury themselves into the pockets of her skirt. <em> A skirt with pockets - nice </em> . <em> Good to know our princess also values practicality.  </em></p><p> </p><p>"And where would that usual spot be?" </p><p> </p><p>"Concrete floor of the smoker area next to my university building or the very stained hardwood flooring of my flat," Brooke puts on a cheerful armour once she realizes this isn’t just a one liner conversation. Even chuckles a bit at the ridiculousness of all this. Not even 24 hours have passed since she arrived at the palace and she has already been transformed into a pretty doll, went through her second meltdown of the day, and now she is chatting with a Schreave. Sadly not the one her parents had hoped it would be. </p><p> </p><p>"Which university?" The woman asks with a slight humm in her silky voice. </p><p> </p><p>"University of Dakota. My home building is the Healthcare and Social Science complex! Very dull exterior if you ask me." Brooke shakes her head slowly and leans it against the wall, a smile creeping on her face. She remembers countless study breaks spend breathing in THC and contemplating her life decisions. Nina by her side - offering comedic relief - a well needed contrast to the blonde’s bitter remarks. Life seemed much easier then. Even though it wasn't so long ago. </p><p> </p><p>Her eyes roll to the back of her head for a brief second while she leans her head back. The contrast off the cool wall against her heated skin a welcomed distraction. Her grey eyes flick back to the princess, just in time to see the corner of her mouth tilting up and her barely noticeable nod. </p><p> </p><p>"Major?" </p><p> </p><p>The blonde blinks multiple times, a bit taken aback. Very surprised that the woman opposite her even cares.<em> Or maybe she is just very polite. </em></p><p> </p><p>"Psychology! I was actually about to finish my Bachelor's degree and apply for a Neuro Science Master", Brooke sighs deep before continuing, "but then this whole ordeal happened."  Her perfectly shaped  brows - the result of the makeover she wouldn’t like to repeat - raise high as she purses her lips. </p><p> </p><p>"Really." The princess breaks her flow with another hum. "Have any specific plans after Master’s?" </p><p> </p><p><em> If I even come that far </em>, Brooke adds mentally. </p><p> </p><p>"Becoming a famous scientist," the blonde answers after a brief pause and let's a little laugh bubble up in her throat. "May sound like I am reaching for the stars, but I would love to get a PhD degree and have an impact as a researcher." </p><p> </p><p>Brooke knows the exact phrasing of the answer by heart at this point - having had to defend her dreams to multiple judgemental family members. Long used to the "psychology is not a actual science" snickers following her around. </p><p> </p><p>After a brief pause the blonde attempts to shift the focus of the conversation. "Aren't you in the medical or more like science-y field as well? Or am I mistaken…" </p><p> </p><p>A small smile appears on her counterpart’s perfectly shaded lips. "Not the stars, a PhD is perfectly attainable. But, yes, ‘science-y’ field is correct. Second year medical student." </p><p> </p><p>So Brooke's assumption was correct, and the woman opposite her seems more open minded than her relatives.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh wow!" Brooke Lynn adds, impressed. "People who have the guts to study medicine really impress me," she mentions with a little smile. "How come did you choose such a difficult major?" She’s a little bit unable to imagine how people can put themselves through so much stress. She pulls regular all nighters for research purposes, however, medicine just seems like the most direct path to a burnout.</p><p> </p><p>"I’d like to help people. Even more than what my current position allows," the brunette pauses. Brooke wonders if the woman already regrets saying too much. "You said Neuro. Anything specific you’d like to research?" </p><p> </p><p>"I actually have the same reason for my career choice, and not to sound offensive, but I find DID, Schizophrenia, and personality disorders really fascinating, and that's why I would love to find out more about the mechanisms involved in those disorders. In order to contribute to better treatment methods - obviously. Also, in general there are so many brain areas we only have mere assumptions about - yet not much factual evidence."</p><p> </p><p>Once she takes a deep breath after her last sentence, she gifts Princess Safiya and awkward smile after having realised she ranted a bit. Three years of ongoing studies - and she is still as passionate about her dreams like she was on the first day.</p><p> </p><p>The brunette shakes her head in response, some curls escaping her tight updo. "Don’t feel embarrassed. Those are commendable reasons, partly why I want to go into that field as well." Princess Safiya tilts her chin down a bit, before speaking up again, which makes Brooke painfully aware that she is still slumped against the wall. "I wish you luck with that... “ A seemingly confused blink accompanies the sudden silence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask for your name." </p><p> </p><p>The blonde finally gets up from the ground, grabs her journal, and carefully straightens the fabric of her pastel pink skirt with her other hand before introducing herself. “I'm Brooke Lynn Sanders - but, please, just call me Brooke!” Her last ounce of enthusiasm spills out of her with a grand smile, while she attempts to a courtesy, barely remembering appropriate manners. Thank god her ballet lessons at least taught her how to do a proper courtesy - she might be a bit rusty, though.</p><p> </p><p>“Brooke.” The name rolls off her tongue like it somehow actually belongs there, like they were meant to meet. With a single nod she approaches her farewell. “Well, I wish you luck in your studies. And for your time here at the palace.” Her regal frame now takes a step backwards.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you very much! It was lovely meeting you,” Brooke adds while letting her glance wander around. The grey walls and gold framed portraits unfortunately giving no indication where she is. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you know, by any chance, how I can find my way back to my chamber?” Embarrassed laughter disruptis her question as nervous fingertips cradle her neck. “‘Cause it seems like I am lost.”</p><p> </p><p>The princess gestures down the hall to their left, showing her the way. “End of this hallway, keep to the right until you see the main staircase. That’ll be on your left. Second floor is given to the Selected. I’d show you myself, but I have a meeting to get to.” The raise of her brows shows off the glowy highlight on her brow bone while just making sure the blonde would make it alright.</p><p> </p><p>“I am pretty confident I will,” Brooke adds with a confident wink, before saying her finale goodbye. “It was a pleasure talking to you, your royal highness.” A slight grin tugs at the corner of her mouth as the formal title barely rolls of her tongue. “I wish you a lovely evening.”</p><p> </p><p>The  brunette's lips fall open, but she pauses before letting a word flow from her consciousness and offers a small, polite smile instead. “You as well, Brooke,” are her last words before she turns away.</p><p> </p><p>The soft clicking sounds still reaches Brooke Lynn’s pinna long after she last saw the long train of the royal’s skirt being dragged across the marble floor. A silent tug on her heart bringis the mesmerized woman back to reality. The blonde blinks a few times before shaking her head and deciding to finish her writing in her chamber, hoping her maids have finally left, just so she can reflect in peace.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> End of hallway - right - second floor </em>
</p><p>
  <em> End of hallway - right - second floor </em>
</p><p>
  <em> End of hallway - right - second floor </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Now what ? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Brooke really should have memorized the location of her room a bit better. So all she can do now is stroll around the halls of the second floor without any concrete plan. </p><p> </p><p>Well, it turns out that nearly all the halls look identical, and the only thing she remembers about her room is that it overlooks the garden. So as she wonders through the hallway, wondering if she just took a wrong turn, she bumps into someone.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh gosh - fuck, I'm sorry”, the blonde exclaims at impact, before she scolds herself for cursing.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, sorry! Wait... Brooke?”</p><p> </p><p>Brooke Lynn’s pupils blown wide as she recognizes the person opposite her. “Clara? I barely recognized you!” She exclaims with a smile. Giving herself a moment to take in the girl in front of her. Her once light blonde hair is now replaced by a gold brown colour, and the selected uniform has been swapped for a sleek A-line dress.</p><p> </p><p>“You look great! But,” Clara tilts her head as she takes a brief pause - giving the the girl opposite her a brief one over, “is it you, though?”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, don’t you think I would have chosen such a wonderful dress?” Brooke deadpans with an extravasated smile, and she twirls around before pretending to throw up. “Well - I actually asked them earlier why they can't just put me in a suit, but apparently that's not "lady-like enough" - so they forced me into this baby pink dress just to spite me.” </p><p> </p><p>The blonde is still very bitter about this aspect of her makeover, just feeling incredibly trapped in this doll persona her stylists had created.</p><p> </p><p>Clara rolls her eyes and smirks at Brooke’s complaints. “Tell me about it. They threatened to tie my legs together because I wouldn't stop tapping my foot.”</p><p> </p><p>Brooke can’t help but let out a laughter. “Sounds like our stylists were in a similar mood! Also, like, how did you let them do this to your hair?” she adds in disbelief. “You were such a pretty blonde!”</p><p> </p><p>“I can always dye it back.” The smile on Clara’s face makes it seem like she actually believes that statement.<em> Ohh honey. </em>Brooke’s split hair dye phase is still haunting her to this day.</p><p> </p><p>“And don't tell anyone this, but I heard one of them call me whitewashed,” Clara whispers - even tho no stylist would possibly have access to this floor.</p><p> </p><p>“She wasn't wrong, not gonna lie. It just hurt a little coming from her,” the now-brunette ends on a more serious note. The sting present in her voice.</p><p> </p><p>Brooke’s smile falls and only manages to mutter,  “ohh Clara. I am so sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Shakes her head, probably attempting to get rid of the memory. “It's alright. It hurts now, but it'll pass. So, where are you headed?” she asks after a brief pause, opening up a new page.</p><p> </p><p>“I hope it does, Clara - I was actually attempting to find my room, but apparently that is easier said than done. The only thing I still remember is that I have the view of the royal garden.” Brooke pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, not even caring the pink lipstick could rub off onto her teeth.</p><p> </p><p>“Not sure if I'm right, but I think that's the opposite of where my room is... so maybe that way?” Clara points out the way she recommends the blonde to take. However, even she seems to be confused in this maze.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that's the direction I just came from,” a laughter bubbles up her throat. “I freaking knew I took a wrong turn.” Brooke shakes her head in amusement until her glance falls back onto the girl standing next to her. “Where are you headed, tho?”</p><p> </p><p>Clara joins Brooke’s laughter before revealing, “Nowhere. Just walking around.” Her dark brown eyes slowly scan the hallway surrounding them. “It's really pretty.”</p><p> </p><p>“I did the same thing. That's how I got lost in the first place. Just wanted to find a quiet spot.”</p><p> </p><p>The feeling of feathers buzzing in her bones had been so overwhelming she could have run towards the stars if she needed to. But now? Now, all of a sudden, the itch in skull has simmered down, leaving her room to breath. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I could use some quiet time too.” A quiet sigh leaves the girl’s lips as they just stand in comfortable silence for a minute.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you think the people here ever get lost? Even the royals? This place is hu-uge.” She accompanies the stretch of the “u” with a large gesture - not even encapsulating an inch of this space. “It can almost fit a whole city.”</p><p> </p><p>“At least I hope so - would definitely make me feel less bad for getting lost.” the blonde adds with a quirky raise of an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>A visible shiver overcomes Lady Clara swiftly, which leaves her speechless for a cold minute. “Man, I feel guilty all of a sudden.”</p><p> </p><p>“What's wrong?” Brooke let’s concern slip through her facade. <em> One time won’t ruin a reputation. </em></p><p> </p><p>“I don't know. It just occurred to me how privileged we are to be here -- upgraded to threes, living in an unnecessarily large castle, eating good food,” the woman digresses as her eyes widen abruptly. “Am I bothering you? I'm not thinking too much, am I?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, don't worry. Everyone over thinks a bit. And yes, we may be privileged, but we can also make use of this privilege in whatever shape or form. May it be a representation, addressing certain concerns of the public directly to the crown prince, and any other way one could think of,” The blonde attempts to soothe her worries, all too familiar with that same kind of fear.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow. Someone who actually gets me,” the girl whispers, smiling from ear to ear, as if the woman has somehow physically touched her heart.</p><p> </p><p>And well, maybe Clara’s heart wasn't the only one to feel a slight tug. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> As if someone could really melt the ice around my heart. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Listen, I know this is a competition and we don't know each other much, but I'm glad we met.” </p><p> </p><p>Brooke nods along with a small smile. Very flattered by the compliment according to the slight blush heating up her cheeks. “It's very nice having someone to talk to.”</p><p> </p><p>Not one to easily overload someone with love and affection at first sight.</p><p> </p><p>“So, the interviews are coming up soon. Are you nervous?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uff.” Brooke’s grey eyes are now fully on display - pupils widen i in shock. “I actually completely forgot about that. To be fair it's a bit intimidating to talk the Prince, but at the same time - what do I have to lose? Let's see if I can keep my etiquette straight and be a nice lady.”</p><p> </p><p>She hopes her weak joke still manages to deflect the insecurity hidden in her voice. </p><p> </p><p>“Right? But honestly, I feel more intimidated by the princesses than Arin himself,” the girl reveals with a laughter sprinkled into the conversation.</p><p> </p><p>“Ohh really?” Surprise is basically written across Brooke Lynn’s face. “Princess Safiya seems really nice.” <em> Might have to do with the fact I actually met her tho - </em></p><p> </p><p>“She does.” Clara leans in close, her hair tickling the tip of her eyebrow, and whispers, “but I've been hearing rumors about Arin and his mom.”</p><p> </p><p>The blonde feels very intrigued all of a sudden and asks if Clara would mind sharing. She’s never cared much for rumors or gossip - but what else could be exciting in this place?</p><p> </p><p>“I don't know much, but apparently Arin and princess Mélanie aren't on good terms. No one knows why.”</p><p> </p><p>Pink stained lips slightly fall apart into an O-shape. Curiously waiting for her counterpart to continue. </p><p> </p><p>“That's all the stylists would talk about. That and the break up... I don't want to believe them, but I can't stop thinking about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, gossips don't always have to have an ounce of truth to them... But the stylists work at the palace, so there might be some truth in that.” Brooke indulges herself for a second in to the mystery of it all - letting her thumb and index finger caress her chin before she pulls herself back together. “I  mean, I don't wanna snoop around in their business... But you got me kind of intrigued.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, that's what I thought too. I guess it's just because it's the only thing I've ever heard about them from arguably reliable sources,” the brunette adds with a short scof, before jumping to the next topic. “I'm just really nervous about the interviews and I really don't know much about them. I’m worried I won't make the right impression”</p><p> </p><p>”Listen if you are right for Arin - you'll make the right impression on him. You seem like a really sweet person, Clara. You have nothing to worry about.” Her initial brick wall is slowly softening for the gem reminding her of four-year-old Brooke, terrified of her first ballet lesson.</p><p> </p><p>”I, on the other hand, might accidentally insult him with my dry humor,” she attempts to lighten the mood with an awkward giggle.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, we never know. Maybe he likes dry humor,” the shorter girl adds with a smile and pats Brooke on the shoulder as if she was the one needing reassurance.</p><p> </p><p>“We'll see about that!”</p><p> </p><p>“And if he's right for you, he'd definitely reconsider different means of transport instead of those awful planes,” Clara adds with a giggle.</p><p> </p><p>Apparently Brooke Lynn’s rant about planes and their environmental impact left a lasting impression.</p><p> </p><p>“I fucking hope so,”  the self proclaimed environmental activist exclaims enthusiastically - her statement being heard from the adjacent corridor. Yet once she realised the f-word had slipped her again, she dramatically slaps her hand over her lips. “I am pretty sure I am not allowed to swear,” she mumbels while looking around before a loud snort escapes between her fingertips.</p><p> </p><p>It’s no surprise Lady Clara crinkles her nose in laughter at her sight.</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, so many rules,” she adds with one last giggly breath before putting on a serious face. “I hope it'll all be worth it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I doubt it will be. But, hey, I’m in for a good time, not a long one.” Brooke adds a wink for good measure, not yet ready to share how she even ended up here in the first place.</p><p> </p><p>A stomach grumble pulls Brooke back out of her thoughts. “Someone's hungry?”</p><p> </p><p>Clara answers with a chuckle, “Do they have room service or something? Are we allowed to eat when it's not meal time?”</p><p> </p><p>“I fuck-” Brooke catches herself and restarts her sentence - <em> like a real lady </em>-, “I really hope they do. Your best bet would probably to ask your maids.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, right. I guess I better get going then; unless you want to join me.”</p><p> </p><p>A tempting offer, but Brooke certainly has emptied her capacities for social interactions today. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Clara, but I am actually not really hungry! I'll see you tomorrow morning then?”</p><p> </p><p>Reminding herself that this isn’t just all fun and games. Some rules even apply in certain realistic nightmares.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright. It was really nice seeing you again, Brooke!”</p><p> </p><p>Brooke slightly waves the girl goodbye.</p><p> </p><p>“See you tomorrow”, the brunette giftis her one last smile and walks away in the opposite direction of were Brooke’s room is meant to be. She should really go back and rest.</p><p> </p><p>But all her body craves is to stay in place. Now stare at the empty space. Praying all of this is just a really drawn out dream.</p>
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